


Lies

by Speary



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, First Kiss, M/M, POV Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 11:23:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7616170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Speary/pseuds/Speary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you want something badly enough, you lie.</p><p>---<br/>Sam told him to just say something, open his dumb mouth and let the words fly. Dean didn’t do that though. He could see the million and one ways that could all go to Hell. He’d been to Hell before, and he had no desire to take a return trip, thank you very much. </p><p>Instead he pined and fretted, distracted himself as he always had before. Eventually Sam stopped rolling his eyes at him. Eventually he stopped making those stupid, frustrated little sighs of irritation every time he saw the two of them within two feet of each other. It was Dean’s fault for saying something. He’d kept his thoughts to himself just fine for years. Why’d he have to go and screw things up now?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lies

Sam told him to just say something, open his dumb mouth and let the words fly. Dean didn’t do that though. He could see the million and one ways that could all go to Hell. He’d been to Hell before, and he had no desire to take a return trip, thank you very much. 

Instead he pined and fretted, distracted himself as he always had before. Eventually Sam stopped rolling his eyes at him. Eventually he stopped making those stupid, frustrated little sighs of irritation every time he saw the two of them within two feet of each other. It was Dean’s fault for saying something. He’d kept his thoughts to himself just fine for years. Why’d he have to go and screw things up now?

Well, he’d blame Cas for that one. Dude didn’t blush or show signs of attraction or discomfort. He was an angel and not to be read so easily. He didn’t lick his lips, hoping to put that effort to any use. He didn’t show signs through a spike in his pulse when he wanted something or someone. Dean knew, he’d made a pretense of checking his wrist once when he thought of it. Nothing. He was an angel after all. He could kick back in the Marianas Trench if he wanted to, so a pulse was really rather unnecessary. 

Then Dean let his brain wander into all the places where he hated himself most thoroughly. And in those places he let himself think that maybe Cas just didn’t feel those sorts of emotions where he was concerned. The bond was there, yes, Cas hardly had a choice in that, Dean reckoned. That wasn’t what Dean felt though, not entirely, and that was why he had gotten a little drunk and a little talkative with Sam.

So he’d done enough talking. He planned to not do that again, but then stupid Sam had to go and say something. What happened to having a guy’s back, huh? What happened to knowing when to just shut the hell up? The worst of it was that Dean didn’t even know what he’d said. He just knew that Cas was standing in front of him now with those wide open blue eyes staring him down, daring him to just try to avoid this.

“What?” Dean tried to pretend ignorance.

“I said that Sam told me to talk to you. He said that you needed me.” Cas stopped then like there was more. Dean could just imagine it all. He could just feel the blood coursing up into his cheeks until he was about to literally catch fire from the heat of it.

“Fuck.” Dean tried to march around him, out of the room and maybe the state, but Cas put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him. “Sam’s just being ridiculous. I’m fine.”

Unfortunately, that was the wrong thing to say. Cas looked angry now and moved Dean back into his room. “Tell me.” The words were practically growled out and Dean felt them grind over his skin and set him to thoughts less pure.

“How long will you stay?” It wasn’t even in the ball park of what he needed to say or what Sam was trying to set in motion. It was always on his mind though, and he might as well get this train on a different track and get some useful information in the process.

Cas let him go. “I wasn’t aware that I’d overstayed my welcome.”

“Shit,” Dean ran a hand up into his hair and muttered the word a few more times before adding, “That wasn’t what I meant.”

“That’s what Sam thought you needed to discuss with me? My leaving?” He looked a little defeated then, not all puffed up and smitey like he had before, and Dean felt the guilt, the gut punch of it.

“No, I was just asking.” Dean took in a breath, stalling, trying with all his might to change the direction, fix the damage. “I...” he started and stopped, turned away and continued, “I always worry about you disappearing on us. I just wanted to know what your plans were.” It felt safe saying it this way, to the wall and not Cas. Maybe he should try talking to his wall more often.

Then Cas said, “I think of this place as my home now. If that’s not the case, I’d like you to tell me.”

“It’s your home,” Dean said to the wall. “Well, guess that’s settled. You don’t plan to leave then?”

He heard movement at his back, and Cas’ next words came from a place much closer to him. “You want me to stay?”

God, he could feel him. The ghost of a breath on his neck and he knew, just knew that Cas could see the goosebumps springing up there. He thought about turning around, facing him, changing the view, so Cas might miss the effect, but if he did, they’d be face to face. Personal space be damned. He turned.

Cas looked too serious, and Dean’s room felt small, like it was pushing them closer together. He could step back, give them both room for Jesus or something, but that wasn’t what he wanted, so why bother. “I never wanted you to leave. Even when you were a dick, I wanted you to stay.”

A small, sly curve of a smile took over the corner of Cas’ lips. Bastard never shared a thing through blushing or a racing pulse, but damn if he didn’t know how to share how smug he was, how proud he was of whatever he had over Dean, be it knowledge or some other form of superiority. “Funny, how you never just say what you want. Did it ever occur to you that you waste a lot of time?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean said as his pulse kicked up and his hands got all sweaty. He curled them into fists at his sides and waited for some form of divine intervention. He was pretty sure God wasn’t on his side on this front, so he was likely doomed to just stand here for an eternity waiting for death or his inevitable collapse from physical exhaustion.

“A man I know, once told me that if you want something really bad, you lie. Sometimes I think you take it one step further and just evade the point.” Cas was still smirking at him.

“I’m not evading anything,” Dean stammered.

“Lying.” Smug bastard.

“You’re frustrating,” Dean sounded angry.

“Truth.” Cas smiled and asked, “Why do you find me frustrating?”

“I don’t know.”

“Lying.” 

Dean just stared at him and considered the truth and how best to share it without revealing too much. “I can’t read you. You can read me. It’s frustrating to not know what you’re thinking.”

“You ever consider just asking?” Still smug, but not irritatingly so. And yeah he thought of asking all the time, but that was not gonna happen.

“I wouldn’t know if you were telling the truth or evading. It wouldn’t matter.”

“Fine.” Cas turned like he’d go, but he stopped at the door. “What if I promise to lie to you, just like you do with me?”

“I don’t lie to you.” Cas stayed there at the door, back to him, and Dean could almost see him puffing up with a deep breath of air that he so didn’t need. Dean read frustration in the act and decided to ask him a question just to test him. “How do you feel about Lucifer?” Dean didn’t know why he went with such a loaded question. Thoughts on Lucifer would be all kinds of awful, but it was one of those questions that he thought would give him a baseline, a place to find truth.

Cas said, “I miss him everyday.” Dean wondered at that, toyed with the idea that there might be truth in it and felt sick. “I was happiest when we shared this vessel, when he tried to kill your brother, when he lied to you and manipulated you, when he breathed in hate like he needed it to live, I was happiest. I wish he was here now, making everything so pleasant for everyone.” By the end Dean knew he was lying. Cas still didn’t face him though, and he still hadn’t let out that breath he was holding.

Dean decided to go with an easier question, one that he thought he knew the answer too, but wanted confirmation on, “What’d you think of that fishing documentary that Sam made you watch the other day?” He saw Cas’ shoulders slip a little. He let out the breath he was holding.

“I loved it. It was the best thing I have ever seen. I can’t imagine a better way to spend an evening. I could spend the rest of my existence watching that fishing movie and be completely satisfied.” Cas did not face him.

Dean laughed at him. “Damn, I’ll have to let him know.”

Cas turned and faced him now. “If you tell him, I’ll smite you. They’ll find no trace of your existence.” Dean laughed again, doubling over at the waist.

“What do you think of my singing?” A safe question. Cas and Sam both had made fun of him the other day when he had emerged from the shower. He had been in a good mood, singing at the top of his lungs, something random from his classic rock catalog.

“It was the worst thing I’d ever heard. Dying cats make a far more pleasing sound.”

“Hey, no fair. You’re supposed to be lying.” Dean laughed again.

Cas turned to him and said, “I know the rules. I invented the game. You sounded wretched, and my ears bled from having been exposed to your brand of music. If I never hear you sing again, my life will be blessed.”

Dean caught up suddenly with what Cas meant. “Oh.” He looked away and felt the rise of heat again blanketing his face. “Do you hate me sometimes?”

Cas moved back to him, stood facing him with a smirk on his face that might almost count as a real smile. “I hate you so much Dean. I hate you more than anyone and anything. I hate you.” Dean swallowed audibly and opened his mouth to speak, but Cas stopped him by continuing. “Everyday I think about how much I hate your face, the cut of your jaw, the light in your eyes. Everyday I think about how much I hate the way your soul glows brighter when I come into a room, and I certainly don’t think about why that might be.”

“Cas,” Dean tried to interrupt him, his voice a near whisper.

Cas didn’t let him continue. “I hate you Dean Winchester. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.” His voice shook a little. It wasn’t a blush that flushed his cheeks. Dean knew he wouldn’t feel a spike in his pulse if he dared to reach out to his wrist, his neck, his chest. But his voice though. Dean felt those things in his voice, in the shake and timber of it. And he said that he hated him.

A tiny part of Dean that really hated himself, heard Cas’ words and he thought for just a moment that maybe he meant it. “So you hate me?”

“Dean, you frustrate me too.” Dean wondered if that was a lie or a truth. Thankfully Cas continued before he could throw anymore of his own words into the situation. “Can we stop lying now?”

“Yes.” Dean wasn’t able to say anything more.

“What do you want from me?” Cas was so close, so incredibly close. If Dean just leaned a little forward, he could show him what he wanted. He wanted to show him. 

“I want to lie, because I’m pretty sure I’ll mess things up if I tell the truth.” Dean felt his breathing come in shudders and starts.

“Then lie to me, Dean.” He didn’t break their gaze and that made it harder for Dean. “What do you want from me?”

“I...” Dean choked out and then had to swallow. His voice came out a little too high. “I certainly don’t want you staying around here. I don’t want you living here every day and night. I don’t like knowing where you are all the time. I wish you’d just go back to heaven and never come back.” Dean saw the effect of his words. Cas was focused on him entirely.

“So all you want from me is that I stay?”

“Yeah, I don’t want anything else. I don’t want you to think about me when I’m not around. I know I don’t think about you constantly.” Dean worried that he was muddying the waters with too many negatives, but Cas looked like he was following. “I wish you hated me as much as I hate you.” Dean had to look away then. 

Cas reached out and tipped Dean’s chin up, so he had to look at him. “I can’t lie to you, Dean. I think sometimes if you want something really bad, you just have to ask for it, no lying, no jokes, or innuendos.”

“No innuendos? That’s like half of my communication.” Dean smirked.

“So one more time. What do you want from me?” Cas leaned down to him and pressed his forehead to Dean’s.

Dean focused on the the feel of Cas’ thumb tracing back and forth over his cheek. “I just want you. I don’t want anything from you.”

Cas tipped him more so their mouths came together slowly, gently. Dean was certain he was dead or that he must have passed out and that now he was living in some sort of fever dream. On no planet could he have finally gotten this. “Is this what you wanted?” Cas asked a moment into the kiss.

“Yes.” Dean moved back into the kiss. And this time Dean deepened the kiss. And he didn’t hate this one bit. And from the way Cas was responding, he didn’t seem to be hating this either. Dean focused on what he could read in Cas. His hands were tight around him. His lips parted willingly to let Dean in. His eyes were closed and although everything was perfect, he just needed to hear him say it. Dean pulled away. “So Cas, no lies. What do you want from me?”

Cas smiled that same smug smile from before. He glanced away from Dean’s eyes for a second toward the bed. “Everything.” He kissed him once quickly and added, “Nothing.” He repeated the kiss and finished, “Whatever you’ll give me. I just want you.” So Dean kissed him then, not waiting for anymore words. And he knew he owed Sam or something, but now was no time to be thinking of that. He had enough going on right here in his arms, and soon enough in his bed too. Finally.

**Author's Note:**

> If you feel like finding me on Tumblr, I'm [Spearywritesstuff](http://spearywritesstuff.tumblr.com/).


End file.
